Page 41 of Wickedly Yours
“No, I’m not ill,” she replied with her usual waspishness. “Why would you ask me such a thing? Do I look ill?” She waved a hand down the lovely new walking dress. “I’m going for a ride in Hyde Park, then a lemon ice at Gunter’s.”
“Gunter’s? The park? Where is my snarling sister?” Nick questioned as she sailed past him. “Unchaperoned?”
Arabella suspected Nick knew where she was going and with who. After all, someone had told Rowan about her love of cherry tarts. “True. Would you and Jemma care to play chaperone?”
Jemma took a defiant bite of the pastry she held. “I can’t think of anything more frightening.”
Nick looked rather discomforted. “You should take your maid.”
“Why? To guard my virtue? Edith is wonderful with hair but it’s doubtful her talents extend in that direction. Besides, Aunt Maisy deems my outing to be perfectly acceptable. You forget, I have been to Gunter’s numerous times with Miranda.”
Nick looked at if he would say more but wisely did not.
Peabody came before her and made a slight bow. “Lord Malden awaits you in the drawing room, Lady Arabella.”
* * *
The day wasbeautiful and sunny, warm enough so that the top of Rowan’s curricle remained down. Besides the sun, keeping the top down was prudent and would help to remove any impropriety. The sun felt glorious on her face and she tilted her chin up, not caring if she ended up with freckles.
“I approve of the dress.” Rowan glanced at her, the green glints in his eyes dancing with a beautiful light.
Arabella basked in his admiration. “I wasn’t aware your approval of my clothing was necessary.”
“It is if you want a lemon ice.” A smile curled the full lips as the wind ruffled through his hair. Dressed in a coat of deep blue superfine, paired with dark brown breeches with his boots shined until they glowed, Rowan was almost too handsome to be real.
He’s breathtaking. Her eyes glanced down to his hands, wishing he wasn’t wearing gloves. Remembering the touch of his fingers, her face grew warm. “Thank you for the cherry tarts. They are my favorite.”
“I was informed of your appreciation for Gunter’s tarts. I’m told the cherries used are especially ripe and sweet.” His eyes fell to her lips.
Arabella’s skin tingled. “Malden...”
He leaned close to her and whispered. “We agreed, Bella, that I should not hear Malden again from your lips. Were we not so…exposedI would find it necessary to remind you again of your promise to me.”
The warmth flowing down Arabella’s body was not from the sun. Nor was it the least unpleasant.
“Rowan.” She murmured as his foot slid beneath her skirts to touch hers.
* * *
The park was horribly congested,every person in London seeming to want to enjoy the bright sunny day. Ladies strolled in pairs or with gentlemen, sometimes with a maid following discreetly behind. A young boy chased his brother across the length of the green grass, laughing as he dodged a group of older women who twirled their parasols.
As a rule, Arabella didn’t venture into the park on a regular basis, only doing so when Miranda wished, which was rare. Hyde Park was nothing but a parade of gentlemen and ladies who all wished to see and be seen. Each new Season brought a fresh crop of debutantes all seeking suitable matches while the eligible bachelors all did their best to avoid them. It was rather tiresome. In the past, Arabella found the park to be irritating and beneath her.
Before Malden.
She had relived their encounter after the opera at least a thousand times. Often, she fell asleep with a pillow clutched between her legs, ashamed and feeling like some innocent milksop who had no inkling where all that touching would lead. Arabelladidknow. She’d just not had any idea she would ever want such a thing. Nor had she anticipated wanting Rowan.
A wave of hair fell over his forehead, the golden highlights glowing amid the lush brown. A gentle breeze fluttered the strands and Arabella remembered the feel of his hair between her fingers. Like silk.
“What are you thinking Bella?” He gave her a half-smile.
Good God, she’d been staring at him. Rapidly she composed herself. “I was thinking of how much I will miss Miranda when she goes on her great adventure to Egypt. She’s always adored mummies and such. Something she has in common with her brother, Lord Cambourne. If there is a dry, dusty lecture about, Miranda and Sutton will be there.”
“I’ve never been particularly enamored of the ancients. I’m much more interested in the future. The way we have done things for centuries are changing. Our way of life will change.”
She nodded in agreement. “People are leaving the safety of their hamlets and small villages to seek work at the factories. Eventually landowners, like your father and my brother, will face a shortage of labor to work their land. Girls who no longer wish to become wives or domestics are leaving the countryside to seek their fortunes in London’s factories. Unfortunately, many of those young ladies find themselves living in St. Giles. A far cry from the glamorous urban life they envisioned.”
Rowan shot her a look of surprise. “You are well-informed.”
